A Little World in a Box
by marymin
Summary: Being the only student in a class is a lonely existence, and Haruka is excited to find he might not be alone in the classroom after all. Ghost Takane au. Warning for attempted strangulation.


Haruka was far from the brightest person in the world. He was absentminded and he daydreamed constantly, and that was his excuse for why it had taken three weeks of inexplicably lost pencils and things falling off shelves for him to realize the classroom was haunted.

It was surprising how long it took him, really. If any room was going to be haunted, of course it was this one. It was barely a classroom at all, more like a storage closet with two desks crammed into the middle (one always ominously empty) and various specimens and skeletons piled on the shelves. Even the teacher was a little bit creepy, or so other students would tell him; Haruka just thought he was funny, if a little bit strange. He was out often though, so many times Haruka would spend entire class periods on his own, studying and sometimes doodling while his mind wandered.

He was always woken from his daydreams with a crash of some sort as something toppled over in the clutter of the shelves.

This time, though, something was different.

When he jolted out of his mental escapade, there was a message scrawled on the board in spiky handwriting.

'He's coming back.'

Haruka jumped, looking around the empty room. There was no one who could have written the message, right? It was just him, alone in the tiny classroom. Even the teacher had disappeared— to make a phone call, supposedly— and Haruka had barely started on his worksheet in the meantime.

Then he heard it, footsteps in the hall despite it being the middle of class. Haruka jumped to his feet, rubbing the words from the message board with the edge of his sleeve. He wasn't sure what would happen if Sensei saw it, but there would definitely be some weird questions, and Haruka didn't have any answers just yet.

"Cleaning the board?" Haruka looked round to see Sensei peering around the edge of the door, glasses held between finger and thumb.

"Um, that's right!" Haruka replied, waving his dirty sleeve that was marked from erasing the message. "There was some left, and it was distracting me…"

It looked like his hastily conjured excuse had worked, because Sensei dismissed his words with a wave of his hand, nodding. "If you can finish that worksheet by the end of the class period, that will be all. I've got some paperwork to do, so come by the staff room if you need something."

Haruka nodded, a sheepish grin lighting up his face as he fought the urge to glance towards the worksheet on his desk. He hadn't filled in a single question yet.

Sensei left, shutting the door, and Haruka was left standing in the empty classroom.

It didn't feel empty now, though. He glanced around, making eye contact with the anatomy dummy in the corner before looking over his shoulder. It seemed creepy in here now, somehow. Like something was watching him.

"…Hello?"

Silence. Then his textbook flipped sideways off the desk and hit the floor with a crash.

Haruka gaped. He'd been looking right at his desk as it happened and… the book wasn't even that close to the edge. It had just swung into the air as though hit with a hugely powerful gust of wind and then fallen to the ground. It was impossible, by all accounts. He went over to pick it up, turning the book over in his hands and feeling the cover. No hidden wires or strings.

Maybe it was a prank? It wouldn't be the first time Haruka was picked on— although he was a friendly sort, being the sole person in the special needs class tended to breed nasty rumors about favoritism or dangerous, contagious illnesses. This just seemed as though it was going really far for a schoolyard prank.

Unsure, he went to sit down, setting the book on his desk, and then froze, terror flooding his brain.

"DO YOUR HOMEWORK STUPID" was written slapdash across the message board, and there was literally no way for anyone to have gotten into the room while he was turned away from it.

Someone— or something— was in here with him.

Haruka gulped.

This seemed like the sort of situation where he was likely to end up dead. On the other hand, ghosts always seemed to pop up in stories when they had unfinished business, or some sort of trauma in their past lives. Remembering that, Haruka felt a bit of sympathy grow inside of him. Poor ghost.

"Don't be scared!" he called out. "Can I see what you look like?"

There was no answer, and for a second he began to wonder if he'd have to communicate with the ghost like in a movie. Maybe if he made a makeshift ouija board and had the ghost guide his hand…?

Before he could fumble to pull out a blank sheet of paper though, a brittle voice spoke directly in his ear.

"Why would you want that?"

Haruka screamed. The voice in his ear was a girl's voice, and the voice of someone well and truly pissed.

He spun around, staring at the space beside him, but there was no one there.

"W-well," he replied, getting his wobbling speech under control before continuing. "It's kind of weird to be talking to midair. Um. How long have you been there?" This was suddenly bothering him; there were lots of weird things people did when they thought they were alone that they didn't necessarily want anyone to see.

There was a long, long sigh. And then the desk next to him moved, or more accurately the chair did, pushing out as though someone was sitting down in it. "I'm always here. You should probably stop chewing on your pencils, by the way."

She offered it up as a sort of lazy proof that she had been indeed watching him all year, and he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, ducking his head. She was still invisible, but from the chair's movement he knew vaguely where she was, and he aimed his eyes in that direction.

"Lower."

He looked down an inch or so, which seemed to be a better estimation of her height because she replied with a testy 'Hrmph'.

The silence stretched on.

"So…. did you die here?"

That was probably a rude thing to ask a ghost, but Haruka was curious. He hadn't heard of any terrible murders in this school, but it would explain why no one ever used this classroom. The idea that someone had died in this very room was making him nervous, and he shifted a little in his seat, worksheet long forgotten.

"No, of course not. Don't be dumb," the ghost snapped in reply, and he gave a sigh of relief, shoulders sagging, before she added, "I died in the hallway just out there. Spent most of my time here though, which is why I'm stuck in this room, I guess."

Oh. That wasn't much of a relief, after all. He stared at his hands, wondering if it would be rude if he asked for a change of classroom. Although… getting past the fact that she was a ghost, it'd be nice to have someone to talk to during the day. He'd take any friend at this point, even a dead one.

"Anyway, you need to stop dozing off with that grin on your face." She sounded affronted, as though his facial expression was a personal insult to her.

Haruka didn't mind, though. Now that he'd thought it, he was focusing on the idea of becoming friends with the ghost girl. "If you talk to me, I won't lose focus," he supplied, as a way of peace-making, and she _Hmphed_ again. "You can help me with my classwork?"

Although nothing seemed to change, the voice was suddenly in his ear again, as though she was leaning over his shoulder. "Fine. Put 'C'."

Haruka looked down, his eyebrows raising. "That's… that's the wrong answer though."

"You ASKED for my help," she replied testily, and he laughed and circled C.

"When do I get to see you?" he asked, voice cheery. She went quiet again, and Haruka did his best to focus on the problems in front of him, carefully penciling in the answer.

"If you finish this work sheet," she said finally, her tone begrudging.

He smiled, filling in yet another blank. "Great! I bet you're pretty, 'cause of your voice."

There was a crash, and the chair next to him flew against the wall. "I'll stay invisible if you say crap like that!" she warned, fury radiating from her voice, and Haruka just chuckled again and called her back over to give him another answer.

...

Even with the ghost's help, he still had several questions left by the time the school day was over, so she refused to show him her face. That was alright, though. He was just giddy with the chance to talk to someone, and there was a spring to his step as he bid her goodbye and headed down the hallway. It had taken him a few minutes to pack up, and the halls seemed deserted, although he could hear in the distance students getting ready for their clubs. He passed the staff room, glancing in surprise towards the open door.

They usually kept the door locked, or at least closed- supposedly for the security of student records, but more likely so the teachers could have a moment of peace from their inquiries. Students were suppose to knock or obtain permission before entering.

Inside, his teacher sat hunched over one of the desks, papers spread over it and arranged into haphazard piles.

Haruka cleared his throat.

Like a bolt of lightning had struck him, the older man jerked upright, gaze snapping to the doorway. When he saw it was Haruka, he hastened to gather the papers together, squashing them together into a pile that wrinkled several.

"Did you finish the assignment?" he asked as he worked at it, shooting Haruka a wry grin that only seemed to highlight the lines of exhaustion on his face. "Number thirteen is kind of a trick, isn't it?"

That was the one Haruka and his ghost friend had spent the majority of time working on, so Haruka let out a laugh, nodding. "It took me ages! I've still got a few more questions to do."

Briefly, he wondered if Sensei knew about the ghost. He didn't spend nearly as much time in the classroom as Haruka did, but surely he'd heard the weird thumps or noticed things rearranging themselves. Maybe he should ask him.

Before he spoke though, he remembered how flustered the ghost girl had been, and he decided against it. Besides, it was nice having a secret for himself.

Sensei was shaking his head, and he replied in a mock scolding voice, "Haruka, what are we going to do with you. No, don't worry about it. Just have them finished by next class."

Haruka had been hoping for that sort of answer, and he nodded with a bright grin. "Thanks, Sensei! See you tomorrow!"

He didn't think he'd ever been so excited for a day of school before, and he knew it wasn't because of Sensei or the assignment. He just wanted to talk to the ghost girl again.

...

The next day, Haruka turned in his completed worksheet and spent the first few minutes taking notes from the diagrams on the whiteboard. He was distracted, glancing around the classroom as though he'd be able to identify a trace of the ghost. His eyes kept straying towards the perpetually empty desk next to him, although now he wondered how often it really had been empty.

It seemed to take ages for Sensei to lose interest in teaching him. Although, he seemed distracted too, now that Haruka thought about it. His eyes were red-rimmed, as though he hadn't slept at all that night.

But after half an hour (even though it felt more like three hours) his teacher sighed and re-capped his marker. "That's it for now. I've got something to check on in the staff room, so if you'll answer the questions on page 325, I'll be back before lunch to go over it."

Haruka could barely sit still, waiting for him to leave. When the door had swung shut, he counted to three before saying, "Are you there?"

A long moment of silence. He opened his mouth to ask again and the sharp voice snapped back "I'm here! Yeesh, don't yell."

He hadn't meant to yell at all, but he just laughed, looking around for the source of the voice and finally towards the apparently-no-longer-empty desk.

"I wasn't sure!" he replied, beaming and not at all put off by her harsh tone.

"I'm always here, you know," she grumbled back, and even though he'd half expected that to be the case, it only made him beam all the wider. Sure, it was a little embarrassing, but he'd never be alone.

For lack of anything better to talk about, he asked her about the work he'd been set, and turned the textbook towards what he figured was her direction. After a moment where he assumed she was reading the questions, she replied, "I don't know. He never had me do these."

Haruka blinked in surprise. "Hey, you mean you had Sensei too? When you were alive, I mean?"

He'd assumed she'd been dead for hundreds of years. Wasn't that always how it was in stories? But his teacher hardly looked 50, let alone hundreds of years old.

When the ghost girl replied, her voice was thoughtful, as though she was only just remembering. "...Yeah. I guess I did. A lot of what happened when I died is sort of blurry, so-" she paused, before saying incongruously, "What do you think of him?"

"Ah? Sensei is... he seems sort of frazzled a lot, or confused. People say he's really smart and stuff, but that he started teaching here around the time his wife and daughter died, so... I guess that's why he always seems so weird?" Haruka hadn't known he'd put that together from tidbits of overheard gossip, but the moment it left his mouth he knew it was true. Or at least, he thought it was the truth.

"Hm..." Haruka couldn't see the ghost girl, but he imagined she was nodding as she said, "That's right. He seems to be a good person, so why...?"

She was interrupted by the sound of the door slamming open behind them. Haruka twisted in his seat to see his teacher in the doorway, hands in his pockets.

Haruka gave a guilty laugh, moving his hand to cover his paper. "Sensei! I thought you weren't coming back for another hour or so..."

He trailed off.

Something was wrong.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly what was different; the weary weight seemed gone from the older man's shoulders, the bewildered sort of expression had vanished entirely from his face. But more than that, his eyes were _red, _not around the edges but in the center, glowing like something inhuman was looking out at Haruka from within.

Haruka stood up too fast and knocked over his chair. "Sensei?" His voice came out in a confused squeak, and for a second he thought it was a trick of the light, that he was being irrational.

And then his teacher was crossing the space between them, and his hands were around Haruka's neck, and Haruka didn't have enough breath to say anything else. His jaw stretched uselessly as he tore at the older man's hands, eyes going wide in shock.

There was a series of loud crashes, and the grip on his neck disappeared. Haruka staggered backwards into his desk, gasping for breath, staring at the scene before him; a whole shelf of textbooks lay at his teacher's feet. As Haruka watched, another one lifted into the air and struck the other man over the head.

There was a shimmer in the air, and for a second Haruka saw another person at the shelves, short and spiky with messy pigtails. She looked up and their eyes met.

"Get out of here!" she yelled, and it was his ghost. Her voice made Sensei wrench around to see, and he lunged for her, his hands going through her form. She disappeared again.

"You!" he snarled, and his voice was nothing like the kind but absent teacher that Haruka knew. "Go away! It's going to work this time. One more sacrifice to bring them back-"

As he spoke, Haruka edged towards the far wall, feeling his way along the shelves. Unfortunately, his words seemed to remind the not-Sensei of why he was here, and he whirled back towards Haruka, coming for him too fast for Haruka to get away. He wasn't much taller than Haruka but his strength almost seemed inhuman as he caught the front of his shirt, forcing him back against the shelves, and Haruka cried out in terror, his heart beginning to pound in that painful, throbbing way that usually meant trips to the hospital and more pills to swallow in the mornings.

"Haruka!" His ghost screamed his name.

He scrabbled for a hold on the shelves. Over his teacher's shoulder he caught sight of one of the scientific specimens levitating into the air. Haruka squeezed his eyes shut just before it crashed down over both their heads.

There was an inhuman cry of pain and Haruka yelled too as shards of glass cut into his skin. The pressure on his shirt collar was gone and he staggered away, wiping at his eyes- he didn't seem that badly injured, it seemed like Sensei had gotten the worst of it-

"Run!"

His ghost had materialized again, in between him and the person who used to be his teacher, and her face was drawn up in anger and terror and an expression like she couldn't quite understand why she was so upset right now. Haruka felt his heart throb again.

"Thank you-"

"Idiot! Get out of h-"

Before she could finish her sentence, his teacher's arm plunged through her from behind, reaching for Haruka once again, and Haruka spun on his heel to flee. Glass crunched under his shoes but in only a few seconds he was out the door. He'd never been an athletic person, but fear seemed to give him the spurt of speed he needed to escape.

...

With the bruises on his neck, it hadn't taken much for Haruka to convince the authorities of what happened in the classroom. He left out the red eyes and the ghost girl, of course, but it turned out his teacher was already under suspicion because of another student who had disappeared. Because of the investigation, the other students had never been told, but it hadn't taken much wheedling for them to let Haruka look at the file, after everything that had happened to him.

It only took a glance at the polaroid to confirm it.

It was three weeks before his parents let him go back to school, especially since he insisted he go alone. He hesitated, his hand on the door handle.

"Hello?"

The classroom was all but emptied out. The glass shards had been swept up, and all of the specimens were gone. Even the anatomy dummy was moved, shoved into the corner as if no one had been sure what to do with him. The two desks in the middle remained.

No one answered him, and he swallowed nervously. He had a name now, although it took a bit of courage to say it out loud.

"...Takane?"

At the desk in the middle of the room, a figure swirled into being like coffee grounds in water, and in moments there was the shadowy shape of a girl in the chair, with messy pigtails and a familiar school uniform.

She turned to glare at him. "First name already, huh?" she grumbled.

He laughed, crossing the room to take his usual seat next to her. "I sort of remember someone saying 'Haruka!' back then," he mused innocently, grinning in her direction, and she huffed.

"...I'm glad you're okay," she replied finally, cheeks puffed up, and he laughed again.

"I'm glad too," he said.

Although she was turned away from him, and she was greyish and indistinct like a shadow, Haruka thought he could see the tiniest bit of a smile on her face.


End file.
